


Clint/Coulson 31 - Donkey

by tisfan



Series: Stocking Stuffers [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 14:07:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12913500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Clint is investigating the contents of Phil's attic for holiday decorations...





	Clint/Coulson 31 - Donkey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lola381pce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lola381pce/gifts).



The attic was something Clint found endlessly fascinating. His family had been too poor when he was growing up to have an attic; they had a series of more and more dingy and tiny apartments, living in squalor. Whenever they had something worth storing, Dad sold it to the pawnbroker for more booze anyway.

And then there’d been the circus, where Clint had lived in a mobile home with half a dozen other boys and had to fight constantly to keep even a few things as his own. The idea of a whole room’s worth of space that contained nothing but battered cardboard boxes full of old things that Phil either didn’t need or didn’t use regularly, that was… odd.

But here they were, in the attic, while Phil opened boxes, peered inside and then either shoved them back into place or added them to the ones they were taking downstairs.

“Oh, hey, look at this,” Clint said, pulling out a -- “Is this a Ken Doll?”

“Oh, no, no,” Phil said, shaking his head. “Please, don’t tell Captain Rogers about this.”

It was a Ken doll, probably something from the seventies, with beach-boy perfect blond hair and a rictus grin. Someone -- and Clint believed he was looking at the culprit, blushing pink to the tips of his ears -- had made up a Captain America outfit, complete with straps and unnecessary zippers.

“You made this?”

“Yes,” Phil groaned. He snatched the doll up and put it very gently back into the box. “Leave it alone.”

Clint ignored him, digging through the rest of the box. “Oh, this is gold! A Bucky bear! A homemade Bucky bear! Seriously, Phil, I gotta take pictures of these and send ‘em to Stark. It’s a moral imperative.”

“It’s really not,” Phil protested. He made a half-hearted attempt to steal Clint’s phone.

“Where’d you learn to sew like this?” Clint had tried to learn to sew; back at the circus, you sewed your own costume, or you traded favors to get one made for you. It might have been nice to have Phil on his side, back then.

“My mom taught me.” Phil said. “After I was in the Christmas Nativity play and I wouldn’t leave her alone while she was making my outfit. She started by teaching me to stitch two pieces of fabric together, and it just went from there.”

“Nativity play?” Clint’s eyebrows went up. “You?”

“Good Catholic boy, remember?”

“Nothin’ good about you, darlin’,” Clint teased, running one hand down Phil’s chest, on a beeline for more interesting territory.

“Not in the attic,” Phil said. “I don’t want to sneeze on you at the wrong moment.”

Clint considered that, and then nodded, reluctantly. “Okay. You still got that costume, around?”

“My Nativity play costume? I don’t… probably? My mom was the sort to keep everything.” He peered around, then pointed. “There, that box. Mom was a lot better about labeling stuff than I am.”

“That surprises me,” Clint said. “You’re so organized at work, it’s freaky.”

“Yeah, well, I try not to take work home with me.” He gazed fondly at Clint. “With some exceptions.”

“I’m the exception that makes the rule,” Clint said. His hands were already busy on the tape that sealed the box shut. Unfolded the cardboard flaps and peered inside.

Clint wasn’t quite sure what he was seeing, pulled out the brown plush fabric. A cascade of black, knotted yarn flowed down one side. A stuffed face, made from brown corduroy. “What… Phil, were you the _donkey_?”

Phil grinned, not even the least bit embarrassed. He made an astonishingly good whickering sound. “I was. And Laura Sanders, who played Mary, kept trying to ride me on stage. It was wonderful.”

“Ass,” Clint accused him.

Phil raised an eyebrow loftily and said, “ _Donkey_.”


End file.
